


This Swallowing Me Whole

by dedougal



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2192097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jamie sees Tyler's reaction to him in a kilt, he starts to have his own ideas about what they could do with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Swallowing Me Whole

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a boring meeting when the image of Jamie Benn in a kilt floated across my mind. My shallow, happy mind.
> 
> Title is from Whole by Eliza Carthy, which is a perfect soundtrack for the fic.

Jordie tells him it’s because his beard is ginger, which makes no sense because Jordie is much more of a redhead. But Jamie goes along with the stylist who fusses over him until the kilt settles around his knees, tugging the white t-shirt into place. The stylist also clucks a lot about his hair but Jamie’s taken much worse from many other people and he can ignore that no problem. He feels like such a tool doing this.

It’s only when he poses, knees wide, hands dangling clasped between them, that he finally catches sight of Tyler. Tyler is in some kind of hipster t-shirt and suspender combination, sleeves cut off a black shirt, showing off the guns and his intricate sleeves. One of Jamie’s favorite things to do is to trace the patterns of Tyler’s tattoos, with fingertips and tongue. Tyler, on the other hand, seems to have decided that the best thing he’s seen in an eon appears to be Jamie in a kilt. His eyes are bright and intent and Jamie can’t help spreading his legs a little wider, making the kilt slide back.

He’s got to look all focused and intent, which is hard. He’s sure he mainly looks cross eyed and a little indigested. But when the photographer has him lean back and rest his elbows along the back of the chair, he’s not looking at the lens at all. He’s looking at Tyler who is basically drinking him in.

He’s not sure what makes him corner the stylist and negotiate the purchase of the kilt. He makes some joke about Hallowe’en costumes, he thinks. It’s hard to focus when Tyler’s posing like he was made for it, lips slick and wet and parted just enough to get Jamie’s mind fixed in a very inappropriate direction. Enough so that Jordie takes one look at him and just shakes his head.

Tyler makes a joke about posing and cheesecake and bends over to stick his ass out in some kind of parody of a pin up girl. He even crooks one knee, joking that he doesn’t have the tits to carry it off. The photographer snaps shots anyway and Jamie hopes they don’t use them. He wants to flash his cash around some more and buy them all up and keep them for himself.

It occurs to Jamie, and not for the first time, that Tyler’s brought some changes with him. For the team, sure. Jamie’s convinced they wouldn’t have made playoffs without him. And it’s meant that Jamie can share the whole face of the team thing. But it’s the changes he’s made to Jamie, this strange possessiveness, that feels huge. Jamie’s sure his feelings are obvious to everyone, not just to his fucking brother who knows him entirely too well. He should be glad that Tyler probably thinks their hook ups are just stress relief or buddies looking out for each other. 

Tyler looks up to meet his eye, finally taking the shoot seriously enough to stop fucking around. He grins, ridiculous and wide, his eyelashes fanning on his cheeks as he ducks his head. Behind Jamie, Jordie groans.

 

There had been a lot of conversation about team bonding, so for camp they’d ended up in a hotel, mere blocks away from the rink. Room assignments had been set and then rearranged to suit and no one was telling management. Discretion was half of being accepted.

Discretion was going to be difficult tonight.

Jamie had stuck to one beer – enough to feel loose, to feel part of the group but not enough to really have much of an impact. Tyler was less restrained. His look is obvious when Jamie stands up to leave.

“Don’t want to cramp your style.” Jamie smiles around the table, nodding at the others to keep their seats. “Catch you at breakfast.”

He only makes it as far as the elevators when Tyler catches up with him. 

“You, uh, heading up?” The elevator pings as it sweep open and Jamie holds it with one hand.

“Yeah. Just- Give me half an hour?” Tyler’s face flits through a number of hard to read emotions and Jamie wishes they weren’t in a hotel lobby all of a sudden. “Maybe just fifteen minutes,” he amends. Then he holds the elevator door a little more to watch Tyler stride back to join the rest of the team in the bar.

 

There are emails waiting to be answered and he should make a couple of calls. But Jamie spends the fifteen minutes he’s given himself having a quick shower, brushing his teeth, laying out lube and then working out how to struggle into the kilt he’d acquired earlier. It’s harder than it looks without a fussing stylist, but he manages to get it to sit right just as there’s a knock at the door. The knock is overselling it. Jamie had two keycards and he’d offered the spare to Tyler to let him dump his bag in his room, trying to disguise his hesitance, the worry that Tyler had other plans. Tyler had taken it with a smarmy grin, just having enough time to drop off his stuff before they all headed to the rink.

But Jamie appreciates the thought. It gives him some warning to get his thoughts under control and he uses the peep hole to check Tyler’s alone before sliding the door open.

Tyler barely lets the door close before he’s pressing into Jamie for a kiss, wet, open mouth at the ready. Jamie’s been ready for this since the shoot earlier. He loses himself in the kiss, in the feel of Tyler’s warm strength against him. It’s only when Tyler pushes closer to show Jamie how eager he is that he seems to get that something’s not the way it usually is.

Tyler stumbles when he separates from Jamie, ends up falling awkwardly to sit on the edge of the bed. “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, well.” Jamie tries for a faux-bashfulness but he knows that what probably comes across is a mixture of impatience and honest desire. He finds it hard to hide how he feels around Tyler after all.

“I… Fuck, babe.” Tyler seems incapable of thinking, his eyes wide. 

Jamie has a moment of uncertainty. “Do you- Is it okay?”

“Are you shitting me?” Tyler rubs the heel of one of his hands across his chest, a tell-tale that he’s turned on beyond belief. That makes Jamie relax a little. “You’ve got no idea what you look like, do you?” Tyler’s voice is almost wondering, rough and low. He spins his finger and Jamie, a bit self-consciously, slowly turns in a circle. “It’s fucking obscene.”

“Yeah?” Jamie’s voice isn’t much better. He’s lost whatever remained of his teasing edge. “You like it?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Tyler bites at his lip. “You gonna fuck me in it?”

“That what you want, Ty?” Jamies laughs as Tyler smooths his hands down over the kilt where it molds itself to Jamie’s ass. In fact, Tyler spends quite a considerable amount of time letting his hands wander over Jamie’s ass as he comes in to kiss him, tasting of beer, his beard brushing against Jamie’s skin, teasingly rough. Jamie loses himself in the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets Tyler dip his tongue along the curve of his lip.

Tyler groans when Jamie steps back to sit down on the edge of a chair he’d set out earlier. It’s easy, natural even, to spread his legs wide and watch Tyler’s eyes just catch on the way the kilt slides back, exposing his thighs. Jamie’s hard but the heavy material is disguising it. There’s no disguising how turned on Tyler is. His pants fit too well to hide anything, let alone the hard line of his dick.

“I think I want you naked,” Jamie says, leaning forward to rub his hands over his legs, hitching the cloth up just a smidgen more. “You’re going to strip for me.” Jamie likes to watch and Tyler likes to show off, so it’s not exactly a difficult instruction for him. Tyler teases a little, taking his time lifting his shirt up, swaying his hips as he unbuckles his belt. But he still gets himself naked pretty quickly, hand fitting around his dick to stroke the edge off as he takes in Jamie and the way he looks when Jamie pulls his own shirt over his head.

“Do you… Is this one of those times you want me to be in charge?” Jamie likes that they take turns, sometimes, to tell each other absolutely everything they had to do. It makes him forget that this isn’t permanent and exclusive, because they trust each other enough to turn over control and to take it. He could do that tonight. But Tyler shakes his head before casually reaching over to grab a cushion from the neatly tucked in bed. Fuck that, there’s nothing casual about the way he plants his knee on the bed and reaches out to show off his ass and the muscles across his shoulders and all that unmarked skin that Jamie wants to just cover in bites and hickeys.

“I’m pretty sure that if we did that, I’d basically come right now.” Tyler’s kiss is soft and sweet, before he drops the pillow to the floor and kicks it between Jamie’s planted feet. Tyler settles himself down, holding onto Jamie’s knees for balance. “Too much of you in this fucking kilt and I might just –“ He made an obscene gesture to indicate coming and followed it up with a weird noise that was probably supposed to be an explosion. It shouldn’t be hot in the slightest, but Jamie just found it adorable.

Tyler’s hands didn’t stop moving, shifting up to trail along the softer hair at the top of Jamie’s thighs. Jamie moves forward in the chair, trying to steer, but he needn’t have bothered. Tyler’s hand closes around his cock and twists up. He uses his other hand to lift the material out of the way and bends over to suck the head of Jamie’s cock into his mouth. Sometimes Tyler’s tongue alone is enough to send Jamie over the edge but he holds onto his control with an iron will and focuses on the way Tyler’s breath hitches as Jamie shifts his hips up to drive his cock into Tyler’s mouth. It’s hot and wet and fucking good, especially when Tyler sinks down, takes him deeper. If they didn’t have Press tomorrow, Jamie knew he’d be making Tyler take him as far as he could.

One of Jamie’s hands ends up half stroking, half grabbing Tyler’s hair. He’s had his curls cropped for the start of the season but there’s enough for Jamie to get a decent grip on. He uses it to pull Tyler back, when he feels like he’s within moments of tipping over the precipice.

“So, you up for more?”

“I’m going to feel you all through skate tomorrow,” Tyler promises, heaving himself to his feet. Jamie doesn’t know whether he should be a little bit more responsible but his dick is hard and Tyler’s hands are insistent and eager and Jamie hands over more control when Tyler guides him to lie flat on the bed, all spread out.

He wants a kiss, again. He wants to lose himself in the feeling of Tyler’s mouth, used and full from sucking his cock. He waits, though, while Tyler grabs the lube and kneels above him, legs wide over his thighs, pale against the dark green spill of the kilt. Jamie’s hands go automatically to his waist, holding him in place for a moment.

Jamie’s caught, again, by the way Tyler looks and that possessiveness from before swirls through him. He’s not stupid enough to think he’s the only person Tyler fucks – they’re apart often enough during the summer and even during the season. There are no labels for what they’re doing that Jamie can add a ‘my’ to – no boyfriend or lover or partner. But when Tyler’s spread above him like this, Jamie wonders if he should push for it. Have Tyler be his and let himself be Tyler’s in a way that’s beyond friendship and colleague and teammate.

Tyler tips forward and brushes his mouth over Jamie’s mouth, his cheek, his neck. It’s too soft and insubstantial to be called kissing, but Jamie feels it like a hot coal drawn across his skin. He surges into a kiss, holding Tyler close again. Tyler grins when he kisses back and then they’re laughing and it’s back to being fun and light and good again. Jamie locks his darker thoughts away and skims his hands down over Tyler’s ass.

They trade more kisses, more pants against each other’s skin as Tyler holds onto Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie’s busy working his fingers into Tyler’s ass, sloppy and messy with lube. He knows what it looks like – he’s watched his fingers spilt Tyler open from all kinds of angles – and the thought of it makes his cock harden even more. He should be more thorough with prep but he’s impatient now, spiraling towards a finish he’s more than eager to get to.

Tyler seems to be feeling something similar. His fingers dig into Jamie’s shoulders, hopefully leave marks. “Fuck – that’s enough. C’mon, babe.”

When Jamie obediently withdraws his fingers, Tyler’s up and scrambling to get the kilt spilled about Jamie’s waist, get his cock bare, the condom fumbled into place. Tyler knee-walks up until he’s poised above Jamie’s cock, one hand wrapped around it to hold it steady. Jamie had to ground himself, has to place his fingertips against Tyler’s skin to make sure he’s not doing something ridiculous like floating three feet off the bed. It’s the way his cock feels when Tyler starts to work himself down that really makes everything seem real again.

Tyler’s chest is rising and falling rapidly by the time he seats himself on Jamie fully, collapsing forward to rest one hand over Jamie’s heart. Jamie runs his hands up and down Tyler’s sides, over his tattoo sleeves, up into where sweat has plastered damp curls to his neck. It’s overwhelmingly hot. Tyler rides him, slow at first, then with his typical enthusiasm, the bed protesting slightly at his vigor. It gets even better when Jamie plants his feet and thrusts up into the wet, hot, tight feeling of Tyler surrounding him.

“Love this,” he tells Tyler, swapping out the ‘you’ he half-wants to slip in. “Feel so good.”

They get louder. Jamie knows this because there’s a banging noise from the wall which – if he remembers anything correctly – leads to Jordie’s room. Tyler laughs, clear and sweet, and slams himself down harder. Jamie gets his hand on Tyler’s dick then, stroking it as smoothly as he can, letting Tyler’s movements drive the twist of his hands.

Tyler’s beautiful when he comes. Jamie forces himself to keep his eyes open to see the tipped back head, the way Tyler stiffens so all his muscles seem taut and strained and perfect under his skin. There’s always a flush on his cheeks, one that stretches down almost to his belly. And when he’s done, he always looks so happy, eyes sparkling as he falls forward to kiss Jamie. That’s always when Jamie comes, shuddering through the kissing.

They lie beside each other for a long moment before Jamie heaves himself up to head to the bathroom and clean up. The kilt tangles with his legs and his hands are clumsy on the buckles. He’s a little numb, a little brain dead, the whole day catching up with him. Tyler’s clever fingers sort him out, smooth over the leather until the heavy wool is tossed to the floor and Jamie’s able to make good his escape.

He feels more settled coming back from the bathroom, with Tyler sprawled out on the bed, clicking through channels on mute. Through the wall, Jamie hears the unmistakable squeak of a mattress and a low, constant stream of groans. That’s when the headboard next door begins banging against the wall.

“Jordie’s next door, right?” Tyler flicks the television off and tosses the remote onto the nightstand. Then he leans back, folds his arms behind his head and looks smug. “I got you and your brother laid. I am a sex god.”

Jamie contemplates arguing but he would probably have to give Tyler some credit for the idea. Instead he settles for throwing the flannel so it slaps onto Tyler’s belly. Tyler doesn’t even flinch.

The noises from next door seem louder when Jamie slips onto the bed beside Tyler. He tries not to wonder who Jordie’s got in there. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.

“So. I’m thinking we see who can go longest.” Jamie rolls his head to look at Tyler, wondering what the hell he’s talking about. “Fucking. We let them finish and go again. I’ll rim you this time.” Tyler looks gleeful at the thought. Jamie’s tempted (he’s always tempted) but he ends up shoving his hand into Tyler’s face to make him look away.

“Sorry, babe. We’ve got shit to do tomorrow.” Jamie continues his bed routine, setting the alarm on his phone and flicking the light off. Tyler curls up to him in the dark and Jamie settles an arm around him, kicking the sheets up to cover them.

“The kilt was hot though.” For all his bravado, Tyler’s already falling asleep, words slow and slurred. “Like you.”

Jamie runs his fingers over Tyler’s back, feeling his way down his spine. Tyler purrs like a contented cat, the noise fades out from next door and Jamie thinks, just for a moment, that it should always be this way.


End file.
